With a Vengeance

♤2

I heard it was suicide. I guess the poor boy couldn't handle the guilt of his jack ass father's corruption.

Suicide? Of course not. I bet it was his father to do it. The boy knew too much.

Absolutely not. It was that slutty mistress, Katherine. She-

"Ladies," Sheriff Bennett said from the door of the diner. "The truth is, we don't know who killed Wiley Bradshaw, but there is one thing I do know."

"Oh? What's that?" Ethel Bailey asked, itching for the gossip.

"I know that the death of Mr. Bradshaw isn't any of your damn business. A family is grieving at the loss of their son. They don't need the little old ladies of the town spreading rumors about his death. Yes, I know they aren't the most popular people, but they are still people. Why don't you try it some time?" Carl came out of the kitchen and handed the sheriff a large paper bag with his order and a drink carrier with two milkshakes. "Have a good evening ladies." He nodded his head before walking out of the diner as the bell jingled behind him.

"I bet it was him," Brenda Joyce whispered.

~~~

"Alli?" He called through the house. "Sweetie, I'm home... I brought dinner." Carter dropped his coat on the back of a dining room chair before setting the food down on the table. "Al? You here?" Panic began rising in his chest as he made his way quickly down the hallway. A million of the worst case scenarios ran through his mind as he ran into his daughters bedroom. He sighed in relief when he saw her sitting on her bed, reading a book as she blasted music into her ears. She glanced up and quickly took out her earbuds.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey baby girl. You alright?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm fine. Are you?"

"What? Yeah. Of course I am." He sighed softly and ran his hand through his silky brown hair. "I brought home dinner."

"Carl's?" She asked as she stood up from her bed.

"Is there ever anything else?" She laughed lightly and followed her father to the dining room. Carter looked back at his daughter as she sat at the table, a distant look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something before the little house was cut off by darkness. "Damn blizzard," he mumbled. The bright beam of his flashlight cut through the room.

"Picnic style?" Allison asked.

"I guess so, darlin'." She smiled and stood up, reaching up and grabbing a blanket and a few candles off of the top shelf of her mother's china cabinet. She grabbed two paper plates and walked into the living room, setting up their little coffee table. She sprawled the blanket across it before setting three large candles in the center, lighting them up with the bright flame. As the flickering light danced across her features, she set a throw pillow on each side of the table and her father joined her and set out the food. He put a burger and curly fries on each plate before setting an order of onion rings and cheese curds in the center. He crumpled up the greasy paper bag and set it beside himself as Allison set out their milkshakes. Whenever a storm knocked out the power, they always set up a little picnic in the living room and played board or card games. Carter started this tradition when Allison was three. A huge thunderstorm knocked out their power and little Alli was beside herself with anxiety. Not only was it dark, but the crashing thunder outside would send any three year old into a fit. Having their own little picnic was the only way to calm her down. He would hold her in his lap as they ate and waited for Joslin to come home from the hospital. Every night she told her husband she'd be home around 8:00, but every night she never showed until way past midnight.

"So," Allison asked softly. "Is mom actually going to visit?" Carter sighed softly as she took a drink of her cookies and cream milkshake.

"She called me earlier today... said she wasn't able to make it, she has too many surgeries." His daughter nodded and looked down at the table. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just," she sighed and ran a hand through her short, auburn hair. "I was just hoping she'd come home. Especially after today..." he nodded in understanding.

"How are you holding up after that?" He asked softly, staring at the light of his world. He hated seeing her upset or afraid. She just shrugged lightly.

"I can't get his face out of my mind. It's one of those things where you know there's no way you could have stopped anything from happening, but at the same time, you can't help but think you could have saved them. I could have saved him... I don't know."

"Baby, you barely knew Wiley Bradshaw." She shook her head.

"I saw him just yesterday," she whipsered. "He wanted me to help him study something, so I went over to his house last night..."

"You told me you were going out with Carson-"

"I know. You hate the Bradshaws... I knew you wouldn't be happy if I went over-"

"Damn right, especially after what that boy did last year?"

"Dad. Please." He sighed, but calmed down.

"What did you do? When did you leave?"

"I... don't actually remember. I went over around six. We were studying for a while, then we just talked and... I don't remember leaving. But I remember being with Carson for a while, and then waking up at home."

"Was anyone else at the house with you?"

"Are you asking as my dad, or the sheriff?"

"Honey, right now I have to be both..." she sighed softly and looked down.

"His dad was home. He was arguing with someone, but I didn't see who."

"Okay... thank you, darlin'. Really. You should go to bed. You've had a long day." Without saying anything, Allison stood up and started walking back to her bedroom. "Hey. I love you."

"I love you too."